Your Lips Taste Like Alcohol
by The Starless Night
Summary: Stan has a drinking problem, Kyle gets stuck in the middle.


"Kyle, would you take me home?" asked blue eyes, ebony hair, and pale skin with a strong frame but skinny limbs. Or, asked Stan Marsh. He was drunk again. At a party that was being thrown, believe it or not, by Kenny at his crap hole of a house. Kyle was just sitting at a beat up sofa waiting patiently for everyone to call it quits for the night. What Kyle didn't know was that Stan was totally in love with him. But he did know that Stan was his best friend.

…And best friends drive you home when you're too drunk to even make it across a room in a straight line. Well, that was Stan's new definition for best friend. Even though Kyle and him have been best friends since their eat, sleep, and crap days. Oh well, the people change, not their relationship… right?

"Sure, load yourself into the truck… If you can." He mumbled under his breath. Stan just laughed for no reason and literally fell into the passenger's seat of his own piece of shit car. There was something about Stan that Kyle couldn't say no to. And that's why he was here right now. That's why he'd always be there when Stan needed a pillow to sleep on, a designated driver, a best friend.

Kyle smiled despite himself and jumped into the driver's side of the truck and started it up. Stan flipped the radio on and played a song that neither of them had ever heard in their lives but the atmosphere was much more comfortable with that noise in the background. They finally reached the apartment that they shared now as college roomies and Stan pushed Kyle up against a wall and began violently kissing him. This would genuinely surprise Kyle; if it were the first time that it's happened.

Yeah, a drunken Stan was a horny Stan. That meant he would even screw around with _Kyle_. Kyle just never would have guessed that Stan actually felt that way, he just masked it.

"I… I love you Kyle… your body is just so, god, I just want you." Stan mumbled into a pale shoulder. Kyle felt emotionless because he knew that it wouldn't even cross sober Stan's mind tomorrow morning. Even if they woke up together stark naked. It never did. How many times have they done this now…?

So Kyle let Stan have him… for the night.

_

* * *

_

The next day, Stan was up and about, he was still hung over, but he still had work that he was god knows how long late for. It was three in the afternoon, so Stan was definitely fired already, but it was still required that he be there so his dickhole boss could publicly and formally fire him. Maybe even yell something like, "Hey Marsh, if drinking until you're shit-faced was a job, you'd be a multi millionaire!" while he was on his way out.

He was on his feet and constantly tripping, he hated being hung-over. There was a note from Kyle on the front door that Stan noticed just before he ran into it face first.

"_Stan, last night, your words were so misplaced. I know that everything that you tell me when you're drunk is a lie that the alcohol conjures up. So, I'm cool with you being drunk and stuff, but please leave me out from now on. It hurts when I think about the things you say… I wish you meant every word but I can't be sure if you say it every time you're drunk, but not once when you're sober."_

Stan decided then that it was very bad to be drunk. Very bad. He knew he got carried away last night, even if he didn't remember a thing. Kyle had never done anything like this before. What could he have said that would make Kyle react like that?

He shook it off and climbed into his truck haphazardly. He was glad that he could operate the vehicle without crashing into the stop sign that was at the end of the street. He made it to work just fine, and just in time to be fired, then he reloaded himself back into the truck and just went driving. He felt so jaded and like he had betrayed the only person now who cared about him. He was sick of sleeping on the floor and sick of scoring every night with Kyle and maybe even random people.

Then he remembered that his ex, Wendy, was having a party that night to celebrate an anniversary with her husband of what? Two months? Three max? He almost snorted out loud to himself. But either way, there would be alcohol involved, and Kyle was going to it too. So he hoped that he wouldn't fuck up too badly and that this would be the last time he got wasted at a party. So this was about the time that Stan drove back home in his beat up pick-up and got ready for the event that started at five and ended whenever he decided to ask Kyle to take him home.

_

* * *

_

Stan arrived without Kyle at the party, but he called to let the black haired boy know that he would be there after he got off work at six. So Stan decided to break out some wine and start to get a little tipsy on his own. He didn't know anybody at the party besides Wendy anyway. And he stopped giving a fuck about her a long time ago.

It was six o-two when Kyle arrived at the party and found Stan on the dangerous edge of full on drunk and still able to register what was going on and remember it later. He was kind of glad that he wasn't shit-faced yet though. And they sat together and talked and drank like they were close as they used to be again. Kyle missed those times.

"Yeah, I got your note on the door, Ky. I really appreciate it too. It helped me make a decision on what I'm going to do. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to stop drinking… as much as I have been." They both laughed at this, and Kyle didn't know who was talking to him now. Stan? Or, like always, was it the champagne and wine?

"Is that so? And what about the note made you decide this?" Kyle asked with a raised brow. Stan smiled, he wasn't totally drunk yet, so he was going to explain just exactly what made him change so drastically.

"Well, it was all you, Kyle. I… really feel the way my drunk self feels about you. But the sober version of me is just too big of a pussy to admit it. I guess my drunken self is just too horny, and my halfway self makes the most sense, because that's who's talking to you right now, I'm sure." Kyle was about to open his mouth to protest what Stan was saying, about to tell him he was probably full on drunk now, and that they should get home, but Stan cut him off immediately. Right now was his only chance at a shot with loving Kyle the way he'd always wanted to.

"I've had you so many times, and I know that I only make you happy when I'm wasted. I point my finger, but I can't blame anyone but myself. And every time I trip and fall to the bathroom floor, it feels like I'm falling in love. I may not remember fucking you, but I remember how you taste, like hope, like love… And now that you've left that note, it feels like I'm falling in love alone… and I don't want that. I want you to fall in love with me just like I am you so we can be happy." And Kyle's eyes lit up with hope. Did Stan really just say all of that?

Kyle didn't really care now, but he pounced on Stan and kissed him anyway. Stan kissed back, tasting the hope and love on Kyle's tongue like he always did. After that, Stan drank and drank and drank and they partied and had sex on Wendy and her husband's bed and Stan got drunk and Kyle didn't for fear of needing someone to drive him home. It kind of got Kyle down as Stan got more and more wasted. He had made friends with everyone in the room and they all played drinking games while the redhead just stayed glued to Stan's arm like a lost puppy dog.

The drunken crowd fell asleep and Kyle was the only person to leave unscathed by the alcohol… and this time, he left Stan alone at the house with his brand new friends. He felt utterly betrayed. And that was something that he was tired of.

It was Two AM when Stan woke up on a blackout binge. He only got one or two hours of sleep because he didn't need much of it. He patted himself down for his keys and realized that they were lost, or that Kyle took them from him sometime in the night. But that didn't matter, because he had so many friends to depend on now. They could take him out to another bar, or home so that he could crash. Whatever came first.

But as he looked at the one text message that was sent to his phone, he realized what he had done.

"_Thanks, really I appreciate it, now I know what kind of dick you are, Stan. I don't feel like talking to you right now. Just leave me alone. I'm not going to take you home. Get one of you new friends to do it you drunken bastard."_ He felt faded then. Like he lost everything. And he really had. Kyle was all that he had left that meant something to him. He felt alone even though he was in a room full of people. He toppled over and tripped and fell and got back up and made it across this room and got outside to where the sun wasn't shining yet and where the stars were fading back into space and where his car was supposed to be parked but it wasn't here anymore because the person he was in love with took it from him. And he plopped down onto the cement curb and thought about Kyle. The only thing to stop him from crying at the moment was the fact that he had forgotten how.

He pulled his phone from his heavy pocket and dialed the only phone number he has committed to his heart. Kyle's cell. He was surprised when the redhead answered. Though his voice was cracking and he sounded small and helpless and crushed and defeated and so many other synonyms for sad. Stan knew it was his fault and felt more like an asshole now.

"_What? What the fuck do you want now?"_ he asked through the phone. Stan cringed at how angry he sounded, but remembered that he was the one who made Kyle cry so it was justifiable. He thought of something to say and hoped that Kyle wouldn't hang up on him.

"Kyle, I wanted to say I'm sorry for the last time. You don't have to accept it, but I want to throw it out there just so I feel like I tried to do the right thing after screwing up royally. I didn't deserve to meet you, or have you as a friend for this long. I don't deserve you at all. So… if you hate me, I won't come home, in fact, I'll haul my ass out of the apartment that you mostly paid for anyway and find somewhere else if you want. I don't know anymore, but it's up to you now. It kind of always was since you're the perfect person in this… one-sided relationship." And he paused, waiting to see if Kyle was going to say anything. He was hoping that Kyle would want him to stay because he was greedy. And he knew it. But at the same time, he hoped that Kyle would never forgive him for the sake of his heart. He didn't want to break Kyle anymore. So this was the best way to end all of that.

All Kyle did on the other line was hang up.

Stan sighed and came close to crushing his phone into the asphalt. But he didn't and instead just threw it into his pocket.

_

* * *

_

It's been three months since Stan came back to live with his parents again. And it sucks. But he knows that he deserves it and has lived everyday suffering. He hasn't forgotten Kyle, not a bit. How could someone forget the only person they've ever loved? Especially when they loved you back but you fucked it up so bad that you probably will never have even a friendship with that person again. His parents are angry that he hasn't even found a job yet but he doesn't care, all he seems to do nowadays is mess up relationships with people he cares about. But one day his dad, Randy, comes up to talk to him about everything.

"Stan, I know I'm getting to old for you to understand that we still have a lot in common, but I need to tell you something. This is exactly what happened to your mother and me. We had the exact same problem that you are having now with Kyle. I got drunk, she always took me home, we had good sex and I forgot about her every morning after. Just because I hit my all time low, doesn't mean I gave up on her. Don't you give up either Stan. Alcoholism runs in my side of the family, it always has, and we always overcome it. You're a Marsh, so I know you can do it. Go get him, go after him and everything will get better, I promise." He patted Stan's shoulder and walked away.

And Stan could only think as the words seeped into his mind and slowly started to make sense. He loved Kyle, to no end. He loved his red hair, he loved his green eyes, how short he was, how pale his skin is, his strength, and he loved how he yelled at him for being an idiot when everyone else was too scared to say it to his face. He loved Kyle Broflovski and he was going to go back and chase him until Kyle loved him back again. He smiled and ordered a chain of taxis to take him out of his own private hell hole and back to his apartment that he shared with the only person in this world that he could love.

When he got there, he knocked on the door so violently, when Kyle opened the door, he was cautious, fearing it was a creep or something. When he saw who it was though, his eyes gradually turned from being wide and scared, to slits and far from helpless. Stan smiled because no matter what shape they took, he would always love those eyes. And he knew it. Kyle on the other hand, opened the door wide enough to let him in…

Stan graciously accepted the invitation inside and waited for Kyle to come back before he said anything.

"What do you want from me now? Can't you tell that I've been much happier all by myself? I-I don't need you anymore… and this time I mean it." Kyle added, recalling that time back in the fourth grade when… aw, there was always time to explain that later. Stan smiled a sad puppy dog smile and looked at Kyle.

"I want you. Didn't you know? I always have, and this time, I won't let you get away. And I won't fuck up again. I promise. I want you to keep me in line. You always did when we were younger, so I know you can still do it now." And without Kyle's permission, Stan grabbed Kyle and hugged him to his chest. He held him there so that they could feel the other's heartbeat. And soon, they both began racing so fast that they felt like one and the same. Kyle closed his eyes against Stan's chest, He fit against it perfectly. And he hated that, but he loved it all the same. He wished that he could get over Stan, but he knew he never would if he gave up on him now.

"Stan Marsh, I know that I never should have met you. Like you said. I deserve better and you don't deserve me one bit. But that doesn't have any meaning in the equation of us at all if I _want _you. Cartman is a good example, he gets everything, but he deserves nothing. He only gets it because he works for it, whether or not he cheats is irrelevant, all that matters is that he goes after what he wants, and that's why he gets it."

"And besides, knowing I should never have met you was just another reason I could never forget you." Kyle murmured. Stan held him tighter and felt Kyle's warmth mixing with his own. It felt nice, familiar.

"Kyle… are you going to let me come back home? I dreadfully miss it. I'm getting tired of living with my parents again." Red curls bounced as Kyle nodded his head with a tear-stained smile.

"I love you, Stan. Don't you dare forget it." And without warning, Stan swooped Kyle up into a slow, gentle, loving kiss. This one was unlike all the sloppy make out sessions that they had before having a quickie in the kitchen on the dining room table when Stan was drunk. This was definitely different. And Kyle knew he could get used to sharing those kind with Stan.

"Kyle, will you take me home?"


End file.
